


History Repeats Itself

by regardingseas



Series: Dream SMP One-Shots [4]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dream Smp, Gen, Mending of Friendships, No Beta We Die Like HOPEFULLY NO ONE TOMORROW, Takes Place Right After The Second Festival, War, Yes That Happened Today And I Already Wrote About It, l'manberg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:41:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28581432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regardingseas/pseuds/regardingseas
Summary: “Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it..."The infamous excerpt has been echoed countless times, and not without cause. But all words fall upon deaf ears during wartime, rather they be beloved quotes or desperate pleas. L'Manberg is at risk of plummeting further than it ever has before, and its citizens have less than 24 hours to prepare for doomsday.OrPrimarily following Tommy and Tubbo as they ponder if they've made the right decisions, the residents of L'Manberg ready themselves for what may be the most devastating blow yet.
Relationships: Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: Dream SMP One-Shots [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046515
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	History Repeats Itself

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first story I've actually managed to complete while on my new meds --I've tried many other times, but ultimately failed-- so I'm sorry if it's not up to par with my others. It's very difficult for me right now in comparison to normal, as I'm genuinely super out of it. But that aside, I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> (This fic is either gonna age like a fine wine or fucking milk, hahaha--)
> 
> \------
> 
> CONTENT WARNING:  
> Trauma, manipulation, and depression mentions, one scene touches on flashbacks, there are literal wars happening, please don't read if things that nature will trigger you.

Only twenty hours remained by the time the citizens disbanded from Town Square, hearts all hammering and making their veins roar with adrenaline. Everyone was frazzled, hair standing on end and nerves hyper-active. They were practically scrambling in every direction just to complete mindless tasks, evidently needing time to cool down before the real work could begin.

It wasn't until Eret had volunteered his fortress to become their impromptu Base of Operations that things kicked into gear, the offer earning him many thanks and a pile of chests lined up in the empty space of the area. Without hesitation, Tommy dumped anything he could spare into the crates, inviting those around him to do the same. The chests were beginning to fill up, but their supplies so far would hardly make a dent against a team such as Techno and Dream, that much was apparent to all of them.

Having been gazing inside, Tommy allowed the lid of the potions chest to drop closed, the wooden top meeting the base with a satisfying _thump_. 

They'd need more than ordinary items if they wanted a shot at winning, and Tommy knew that. He knew it was going to be an uphill battle, and that his sudden shift in allegiance was a betrayal not only of his friend, but quite possibly himself, as well. Then again, L'Manberg shouldn't be the underdog of the battle to begin with-- the army of a nation against a mere duo. But they were a duo who should have never been allowed to coincide. They were far too dangerous. Arguably inhuman, and capable of horrors unknown.

Tommy realized he was still stood with his hands on the chest, staring off in thought. He pulled away, reminding himself of his objective. He needed a place to brew more potions, as the ones Techno had gifted him wouldn't be enough. Surely between all the time spent with him and Wilbur in the past, he'd be able to whip up a few satisfactory elixirs. 

There would be no issue, that is, if not for the fact he had no place or tools to do so. After all, he certainly didn't carry any of the overly complicated materials used for brewing on his person. He would borrow some, but now that he and the others were fighting for the same cause, barging into their homes and taking their belongings was no longer an option. Moreover, he didn't have a clue as to if Ghostbur's brewery in the tunnel system was still intact or not, so he opted for the only other location he knew would have all the necessary supplies. It wasn't his first choice, but Tommy knew it was a necessity. He told himself to tough it out, embarking on his journey back to the very beginning.

The moment he wasn't forcing himself to focus, his mind was reeled right back to the events from hours prior.

If he had just stayed quiet like Techno had planned, would everything be fine? It was nigh impossible to shake the thought, the words repeating themselves like a mantra inside his skull. _If I'd just stayed quiet, how different would things be?_ He couldn't help but feel like he's been here before, thought that thought before.

Tommy couldn't see the future, so there was no way to be certain, but he knew L'Manberg would still be at risk. They would have had more time to prepare, however, and there was an overly optimistic part of his brain saying that, if he played his cards right, he could have convinced Techno not to blow up L'Manberg at all. But Tommy smudged that flicker of hope out quickly-- allowing it to grow would only burn him. He'd learned that the hard way, after trying once to nurture that flicker and let it blossom. Wilbur still set off his bomb, and he knew Techno would, too.

But, at the very least, they would have had more time to prepare if he'd stayed behind. Techno and Dream wouldn't have joined forces then. The two would have simply stayed at arm's length, avoiding one another in mutual disfavour. Dream may have still coaxed Tubbo into handing over the disc, but maybe they wouldn't be in such immediate peril. 

Tommy's inner rambles came to a slow as he reached his destination, staring up at the large grey vehicle before him. He had to admit, even when his heart was set on returning to L'Manberg more than anything else, he never thought he'd enter these doors again, but desperate times really do call for desperate measures.

Clambering back into the caravan brought back a rush of memories Tommy had almost forgotten he had. The precise way the floorboards creaked when he stepped just wrong, the lingering smoke and dust clinging to the upholstery, the small walls that always made the trailer seem so much bigger on the outside than in. His reflection shone back from the tinted windows, cracked and edged with mildew. He appeared normal, but he could all too easily imagine the outline of a blue uniform draped over his shoulders. He feared if he looked for too long, it may appear, just to spite him.

Tommy sucked in a breath-- the air was stale, and he had to pull open all the windows to make himself feel comfortable inside the caravan's metal walls again.

"Okay! It's brewing time, boys!" he announced to no one with a clap of his hands, snapping himself into a false sense of positivity to keep his mood from spiraling further.

Tommy began rummaging through the chests, pulling out an armful on supplies and dumping them on the countertop beside one of the brewing stands. He loaded each one with all the bottles of water they could hold and packed their power compartments full of blaze powder. Once the liquid above the burners began bubbling, he would drop a handful of Nether Wart into the top, making the machines hiss and warble at him in what he hoped was a successful chemical reaction.

He could only tell for sure when he removed the glass bottle from its slot, taking a whiff of the blue liquid inside. Unlike the water before it, it smelled almost of ginger, but hotter and mustier, too. Like freshly foraged mushrooms that had been heated in a furnace without first being rinsed of their dirt-- something just strange enough to make one scrunch up their nose. It's _awkward_. Just where it gets its name. An awkward potion, the baseline for any functional concoction.

Now he only had to make them into everything else. It wasn't strenuous work, at least not in comparison to blacksmithing or enchanting, but it was certainly time consuming, and as the hours wasted away, the feeling of déjà vu returned stronger than ever.

* * *

By the end of the day, Tommy and the others had filled a double chest full to the brim with potions, and they were some damn strong ones, too. Not to mention the armour, weapons, and food chests, of which had also been adequately stocked thanks to the combined efforts of the community.

They were all celebrating their accomplishments in front of Base of Operations. Or rather, trying to, as even the wildest of residents seemed to be struggling to revel over such a tense occasion. But that came as no surprise. At least, not to Tommy. He was still more taken back by seeing everybody together than by seeing them afraid. He'd seen more than enough fear recently, but the former, civilization, it was something to get used to again.

Tommy used the clamour as cover to sneak away, slowly threading into the sidelines until he's disappeared from the group entirely. He was with them, but they didn't quite feel like _his_ people anymore. He slaved the whole day over hot brewing stands, in a caravan he'd rather have never stepped foot in again again, but it didn't quite feel like this was _his_ victory. 

Not yet, at least.

As he made his way off, no one seemed to notice. He couldn't even make out Tubbo or Ranboo in the crowd, and though he hoped they were in a better state than himself, he didn't have the heart to go find out. 

His footfalls were quiet as he trailed off the beaten path, finding his way slowly to the old bench with its cliff side view. He sat on its pews and rested beneath the weeping oak tree, its leaves dangling overhead. The sun was beginning to set, winding down to hide under the hills. Tommy knew it would dare rise again tomorrow, bringing both hell and high water with it.

Pink just barely tinged the sky, fading to a dingy salmon as it obscured further. It was hardly breathtaking, and already blocked by not-so-fluffy grey clouds, as if to mock him for his observations.

It struck him then, that this may well be his last sun set, and it wasn't even beautiful.

Tommy groaned, leaning forward to pluck a rock from the ground and chucking it forward with all his might.

"FUCK YOU, SKY GODS!" he screamed, because he couldn't part the lour, or brighten the heavens. So what else is there to do but curse them?

"I don't think you'll quite reach them like that," a voice said from behind, and Tommy would never admit to the squeak that left his throat before he pivoted around.

"I- oh, Tubbo..?"

The brunet nodded, his head down as he stood behind the bench. The suit jacket of his presidential uniform had been discarded along with its tie, leaving him in simply the white button up and black slacks. He appeared much more casual, if not more beaten down.

"Hi, Tommy… I know you said we would talk tomorrow morning, but-"

"No!" Tommy rushed, "I mean, yeah! But this is fine- um…" the words tumbled from his mouth before he could catch them, ultimately leading him to silence.

The quiet continued for several painstaking moments before Tubbo asked a soft, "may I sit..?" with a gesture towards their bench.

"Yeah, yeah. Sure, bud," Tommy strained, scooting over to make room for the boy beside him.

Tubbo stepped around the bench and took a seat, hands balled into fists that rest in his lap. He stared down at them, wiggling his fingers slowly, then glanced up at the setting sun. 

Tongue quite literally between his teeth, Tommy found a loose string on his patched shirt and coiled it around his pinkie. He wrapped it around the digit and tugged the thread until his fingertip had nearly gone purple, finally unwinding it when it began to go numb. Waiting for circulation to fully return, he did this a whole of three more times while sitting in a tension so thick he could cut it. Only once the thread snapped from use did he bother to look towards the twilight again.

Tubbo noticed.

"Man, I'll give it to you, this really is a crappy sunset…" he said abruptly.

And just like that, a weight was lifted-- suddenly Tommy could pull enough air into his lungs to laugh, and hell if he didn't. They both did, cackling far too hard for such a simple phrase, with wide smiles plastered on their faces and arms around their stomachs because their sides ached from the sheer force. They laughed, and laughed, and then it nearly turned into tears as everything dawned on them at once. Where they were, why they were there, what it all meant. It was a solid few minutes before either of them could speak, but Tommy did first.

"I'm- I'm so sorry, Tubbo. I know I said it earlier, but that can't be anywhere near enough to make up for everything…" the words came easier now.

"I'm sorry- _ier_ ," Tubbo says, watery eyes locked on the vomit coloured sunset, "I messed up. I messed up bad. I shouldn't have listened to Dream, especially not today. I gave him the final disc, for Peet's sake. He can do whatever he wants with this place, and now he's going to destroy it. I even believed him when he said you blew up the Community House, but- but you really didn't do that, did you..?"

Tommy shook his head, "Of course not. I mean, I get how it has my name written all over it, but it really wasn't me."

Tubbo sunk into the bench, sliding downward until his feet no longer danged off the edge. "I should have never been president… if Dream was right about anything, it was that. I've done a terrible job. I'm an awful official, and a worse friend…"

"We both did shitty things…" Tommy admits, unable to deny their truths. "But we're only young, and we're trying to do good."

Tubbo breaks away from the sun's trance, quirking an eyebrow towards his old friend. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean we aren't going to be the bad guys. We're going to fix this. Together. Tommy and Tubbo, just like the old days. But we're wiser now, we won't make the same mistakes we once did."

A smile tugged at his lips, and Tubbo held out a shaky hand, "So… friends?"

With a smile of his own, Tommy took his hand and used it to pull Tubbo into a tight hug. "Friends," he vowed.

Only ten hours remained as they settled down in the darkness to watch the stars, the whispers of the past trailing behind them and threatening to become real once more. But this time, they can heed the warnings. This time, things can be different.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are more appreciated than you could ever imagine! Please let me know what you thought! 💚


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